Addition

I felt a little bad, because when I reread my last entry, I realized that I called my brother brilliant and said nothing about my sister, Debby–other than that she’s a big loser at progressive rummy. (heh heh)

She denies that she tried to kill me several times during my first few years on this planet, but other than that, she’s a great OLDER sister. She’s bolder, livelier, and more outgoing than I am. We had all the usual arguments as teenagers (mostly over phone and TV privileges, because those were the days when there was only one phone and one TV–with no remote!–in the house, and neither was in our room).

We sustained each other during our turbulent twenties, even when each of us thought the other might have lost her mind. She got married and had kids. I went to college. Later, she became a nurse. I continued to try to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Sometimes she’s the stable one. Other times, I am. We can go several months without talking, and even a year or so without seeing each other, but both of us know that should one of us need the other, that need will be met. (She just proved this to me again.)

I know that I’m very fortunate to get along with my brother and my sister, because that’s not always the case. Our relationships are not without their low points, but the great thing about getting older is that a lot of the things that annoyed us when we were growing up just aren’t important anymore.

For many years, I was awed by my sister’s work as a pediatric nurse. Very often, she dealt with terminally ill children, but she never stopped being strong and compassionate–and she never loses her sense of humor. Those qualities serve her well in her present work as a hospice nurse.

She’s pretty special, that sister of mine.